


Copacobana (The Hottest Spot North of Havana)

by Pepsi (Pepsiiii)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Humor, Break Up, Friendship, Heavy Angst, M/M, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Post-Break Up, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25237522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pepsiiii/pseuds/Pepsi
Summary: He used to be Akashi Keiji: editor, setter in high school, boyfriend to Bokuto Koutarou, smart guy with a sharp tongue.Now he was just… Keiji: failing editor, settling in highschool (peaking in highschool), single, sad asshole, probably depressed, idiot with too much hope for something that’ll never happen, a guy with a sharp tongue turned into an assault rifle with friendly fire off at the most unfortunate of times.OR; Akaashi gets dumped, Noya moves in and everyone loves the song Copacobana
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji & Nishinoya Yuu, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Copacobana (The Hottest Spot North of Havana)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know akaashi. I don't pretend to know anything about akaashi. I've never written about AKaashi. ALL I KNOW is that this piece means a lot to me so I hope you can enjoy it.

Keiji was single now and everything sucked.

One thing no one explains to you when it comes to dating (relationships as a whole really) is that they  _ will  _ come to an end. Well, that isn’t true. Everyone explains it actually. They explain it often- constantly even- but they don’t  _ describe it.  _

Keiji was under the impression that him breaking up with Bokuto would be a big production with lots of flashing colors and bright sounds, yelling and screaming, anger and mistrust— the stuff they prepare you for (he doesn’t know  _ why  _ he expected that. Especially when he himself isn’t very loud and leans away from confrontation if possible; Bokuto being one and the same but instead of not loud he was  _ very loud)  _ but he didn’t get any of that. He wasn’t lucky enough to get all of that, the big theatrics, and a story to tell his friends over a few drinks. Keiji was never that fucking lucky. 

He got hit with a brick (not literally but with the way he feels months later, the bruise of a brick on his heart and brain and maybe even his body, it feels like it) out of the blue; a sudden stillness overtaking their already very slow (but comfortable and nice) lives. Keiji doesn’t know when this stillness began to creep; he doesn’t know when the wheel began to slow, when the water started to trickle to a single drop when the fridge light started to blink off faster than it did on when opened— he doesn’t know what it started (probably a month or two before the brick hit. He hopes that isn’t true) but he knows when it ended.

_ “Bokuto-” _

_ “Akaashi you’re just- I love you so much.” _

_ “This isn’t what I think. It isn’t.” _

_ “Akaashi.” _

_ “Just say it please.” _

_ Bokuto looks at him (Akaashi thinks he does. He can’t remember. He remembers the tv being on, he remembers the pot on the stove boiling but barely, the sound of water rolling faint in the background. He remembers the feeling of a cheap leather couch, soft on his back and ass; the way his hands grew clammy and sweaty as he looked at his phone, then Bokuto, then back to his phone before he just put it down and spoke. He remembers that. He’s pretty sure he washed his hair too, his shirt was wet). _

So they break up. 

It’s whatever, happens in about 10 minutes. Keiji doesn’t know how you can wrap up a whole 4 year and 9-month long relationship in 10 minutes but then again, it’s been months and he’s still just as upset as during those 10 minutes so maybe it wasn’t wrapped well at all. 

Whatever, it happened, 10 minutes, broke up. It’s over,  _ done _ . He expected to cry. A lot.

Keiji didn’t and hasn’t cried once (knocking on wood and all that). He expected that he was going to spend the next 3 months  _ sobbing _ ,  _ wailing, screaming  _ for Bokuto. For what they had. He expected the fallout to be nuclear, radioactive. He was going to be a mutated zombie of his old self, his insides waterlogged and acidic from all the sadness and hate in his system. He expected that because that’s all he’s ever really seen in any form of media and  _ god knows  _ he would never use any experience his friends had. Ha.

But yeah, sobbing or whatever. That was going to be great. He was going to be in emotional hell for a few months, couldn’t function, everyone sees, he gets pity and attention and sure he doesn’t  _ want  _ that but god would he  _ need  _ it. But none of that happened. 

Keiji doesn’t know  _ where _ he went wrong in the whole process of “breaking up” but he chalks it up to two things. 

  * He was _dumped._
  * They decided to stay ‘ _friends’_



Being dumped sucks. Feels shitty. Keiji was already feeling pretty shitty all the time so this was just another weight on his shoulders but that’s the way the pen ink dries he supposed. That sucked but that wasn’t the thing that made everything so hard, not really.

See, what no one tells you is that ‘ _ staying friends _ ’ is worse than just dropping each other forever. 

In theory, it makes perfect sense. They were best friends, knew things about each other no one else knew, one’s first love and other’s “ _ best _ ” love (whatever the fuck that means- don’t ask Keiji he just gets upset over it) and that meant something.  _ Still does _ ! 

But, it complicates things.

It complicates things a  _ fuckton. _

God. 

Keiji can’t block Bokuto. He should, he really truly should (not forever, just for a while, just to heal—just to  _ heal)  _ but he doesn’t. He  _ can’t _ . It’s  _ Bokuto.  _ He can’t ignore  _ Bokuto _ . He’s  _ tried.  _ It just hurts more to ignore him then it does to subject himself to the mind-numbing, soul-crushing (that’s a bit extreme actually more like soul-gripping? Smashing? Molding like a child would be the now-hard playdough they kept outside of the little cup for 10 hours, now it’s all over the carpet and hard as fucking concrete and nothing will get it out but that child will be  _ damned  _ if they don’t attempt to mold it to the brink of mutual destruction?) pain of talking to him. 

Actually they don’t even talk! They dance around each other constantly. Short messages back and forth… maybe a sentence or two every few days; a good morning, maybe a picture of a cat or whatever. It’s stupid. It’s the worst and also hell and honestly, Keiji hates it so fucking much. He hates it because every message makes him feel like maybe things will be okay, and then that beautiful  _ ‘seen @’  _ pops up under his unanswered message and he  _ knows  _ he just fucking  _ knows _ that the conversation is over. 

(The worst moments are when they seemingly forget that they’re in this disgusting limbo of pain and broken-up-ness and they fall into old habits. Old jokes, old comments only they would get. They fall back into that old routine and Akaashi feels so  _ fucking  _ good. It’s like the wheel is turning again— but it isn’t. It isn’t, everything is still  _ stagnant, still, unmoving, immobile, stuck, off, done, broken—  _ and no matter what the moment ends and Akaashi blinks and notices that “ _ no the world didn’t stop turning, your little world didn’t start back up. Everything still sucks and you’re still here and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it”  _ and suddenly he’s back in his house looking at his phone and feeling like he got hit with a brick).

Keiji feels like he’s getting off track, maybe he never was on track, but he digresses.

So friends, broken up, whatever. It sucks, he probably deserves it. Anyway, it doesn’t help that he can’t talk to anyone about the pain he’s currently feeling.

See, funny story, Akaashi Keiji and Bokuto Koutarou are in  _ a lot _ of the same circles!  _ A fuckton _ even! So much so that  _ all _ of Akaashi Keiji’s close friends are  _ also  _ Bokuto Koutarou’s close friends! And it isn’t like he can talk to his  _ family  _ (Ha.  _ Funny _ ).

So their friends. Wonderful people. Unfortunately, they’re too close. They’re too close and Keiji can’t talk to any of them because he knows the things he feels, thinks, wants to say— are unnecessarily cruel (to himself or to Bokuto, he doesn’t linger long enough to know). He knows this. He is self-aware and smart and very good at what he does (being an emotional support beam for anyone he can) and because of this, he knows that the things he feels (while valid) are cruel. The idea of losing his friends because of these thoughts, the possibility of Bokuto catching wind of his pain? His thoughts and anger (god he was angry) were something worse than anything else because more than anything Akaashi didn’t want to hurt Bokuto. Not like that at least.

(That’s a lie. He did. A lot. But not because he hates him, it’s just- it’s comforting to know the person causing your pain is in pain too. Bokuto doesn’t  _ seem _ to be in pain. Keiji is in pain a lot. Keiji is loud about his pain too. He gets lost in his pain, he’s surprisingly vocal about it but not vocal enough to warrant any help because his friends, remember— can’t talk to them, they can’t know how badly he needs them. So he’s not that sad on the outside but it’s still  _ really  _ sad so it wouldn't hurt for Bokuto to be just as,  _ if not more, _ sad. Keiji is a  _ CATCH.  _ Bokuto should be suffering. But then again maybe breaking up with someone hurts less. Keiji  _ wouldn’t _ know). 

Akaashi doesn’t want to hurt Bokuto so he doesn’t. Simple as that. 

»

“Akaashi you should’ve seen it oh my god, funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen I swear on my boat.”

Nishinoya-san and Keiji are friends now. 

Honestly, Keiji doesn’t know how they got here, he just needed to get away from  _ everything _ and  _ anything  _ associated with one Bokuto Koutarou and Nishinoya-san was there and offering and Keiji can’t say that he’s very picky about his choice in company right about now. Keiji doesn’t know much of anything about Nishinoya-san but he knew that Nishinoya-san had a boat and traveled and ate fish (but didn’t particularly like fish). He knew this because Nishinoya-san never shut up about it. 

“He just,  _ fuck I don’t even know,  _ he just like poured the whole jar’s worth in the pitcher! God, I don’t even- just thinking about it makes me feel sick!”

Keiji doesn’t know what he’s talking about. 

“All that salt? God, I don’t know how he did it! And at the time I didn’t speak Italian yet so I just had to watch, unable to speak, as he- and I swear on my-”

“ _ On your boat?” _

_ “ _ Yes! Smart man. Yes on my boat, that he drank the  _ whole  _ pitcher in like 2 minutes flat, no stopping, nothing.”

Nishinoya-san showed up at his door dripping wet, smelling of salt and guts and wearing a smile that said “ _ please ask what happened”.  _ Keiji, ever the host, did ask; he opened his door and helped Nishinoya-san put down his seemingly hidden (or pulled out of thin fucking air) suitcase and put on a pot of tea for them to share, a towel for Nishinoya-san to dry off with and a wave of unfounded but expected exhaustion coming over him. 

“It had to have been half a gallon. Maybe more. Maybe it was just a gallon? I don’t know how much is usually in a pitcher-”

“It’s two gallons actually.”

“What?”

“It’s two gallons, Nishinoya-san. The usual pitcher holds about two gallons.”

“How do you know that?”

“I had a manuscript that had an ongoing motif of measurements and the size and capabilities of objects and animals in relation to their usefulness to human beings.”

Nishinoya-san just stared at him and Keiji blinked and stared back. He poured some more hot water into Nishinoya-san’s cup.

“I read about it in the project.”

“Oh! Well- Ah thank you for the refill, anyway- where was I…”

“2 gallons.”

“ _ Oh!  _ Yes!  _ Two gallons _ ! Well, this was Italy and Italian pitchers might hold more or less in their pitchers so for good measure let’s just say  _ three _ gallons!”

Keiji sipped his tea, nodding along as if that made sense. Who rounded  _ up _ when they had the exact number? Keiji doubted that an average pitcher of anything anywhere was more than about two gallons but he wasn’t the one who lived in Italy for years, was he?

“Okay, so he  _ drank  _ all three gallons of saltwater mixed with more salt.”

“Woooow.”

“Yeah.”

“Did he die?”

Nishinoya-san looked at Keiji and blinked. Keiji blinked back, god he was tired. 

“Die? No! He threw up and had to get his stomach pumped and maybe died on the table or something but last I heard the guy is fine! Shit… imagine dying because you drank saltwater… that’s probably why fish died huh…”

Keiji wished he didn’t throw out all his alcohol.

“Nishinoya-san this is a wonderful story but it is getting late and I want to make sure you have somewhere to stay tonight. Do you have a place to stay?”

Nishinoya-san shakes his head no, probably going into some story or something, and Keiji hums and gets up with a soft groan.

“I have a guest room you can stay in. I’ll get you some blankets.”

“Thank you Akaashi!”

Keiji walks to his linen closet and wishes Nishinoya-san wasn’t thanking him. He really didn’t do anything worth any sort of praise. 

»

After a week together Keiji learns Nishinoya-san sleeps on the couch and makes a lot of noise. 

He’s loud when he’s awake and he’s loud when he’s asleep but there’s a very short window of time from about 7 pm to 11 pm that lends itself to the contemplative side of Nishinoya-san, a side Keiji‘s never seen (which isn’t saying  _ much _ , he barely  _ knows _ the guy but the devil’s in the details and Keiji was a devout follower of thy lord). It’s silent, it’s calm and it’s respectful. Akaashi is used to the bright, loud, and excitable type of men (he hates them, just a bit. They’ve done nothing but bring him trouble) but he isn’t used to the  _ ‘Nishinoya-san type’ _ of men, so his previous experience with those men living with him serves no real purpose. Nishinoya-san is different but not different enough to make Akaashi forget what he’s been without for going on 5 months. The best thing about Nishinoya-san is that he’s just a guy. A guy who stays at his place and lives in his guest bedroom (apparently. They didn’t really talk out the details, much as Nishinoya-san unpacked his bag, said thank you for the hospitality, and bought himself a mug. Keiji doesn’t remember stopping him, so— he had no room to complain) and always eats some kind of cold snack. He’s just different enough to make Akaashi distracted for the time being, and for someone like Akaashi (praying for anything to keep the dark tones of inner demons away) a distraction is more than welcomed. 

Nishinoya-san wore no socks to bed and the sound of his bare feet on the floor could be heard from the living room. 

Nishinoya-san ate a lot of fruit and bought all of it himself. He usually ate oranges and orange-aligned fruits. He offered Keiji some once and Keiji said “No thank you.” And he looked at Keiji and laughed and peeled the fruit and gave it to him to eat. 

Nishinoya-san laughs and smiles a lot and Keiji likes to think that he smiles a lot too but if Nishinoya’s face when he did laugh or smile told him anything (surprise, and astonishment, maybe pity) he probably didn’t. 

Nishinoya-san was smaller than Keiji and had a wonderful body and a bright smile and pretty eyes and wide shoulders. Keiji couldn’t say that he liked the guy in any capacity yet (he couldn’t even like himself let alone the guy bumming in his house) but he wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy the view (who was Keiji to deprive himself of a few wandering stares here and there? He’s been through a lot, really he  _ deserved _ it). It was something he’s been missing. 

Nishinoya-san does this thing where he just exists in his own little positive bubble of goodness and possibility and maybe that’s what happens when you travel the world and kill fish for a living, but Akaashi was getting sick of it. 

»

Keiji is always waiting for someone to ask him. 

It doesn’t particularly matter who, nor does it matter where. He’s still waiting all the same. He doesn’t wait in a giddy ‘ _ new chapter release for my favorite manga in 30 minutes oh fuck’  _ or even in a terrified  _ ‘I have 3 hours before this manuscript needs to be done and turned in for publication but I’m only on chapter 7 and there’s 10 more and god—why did this author have to make such long convoluted paragraphs?’.  _ No, what he feels is more like a sidelined, lingering sense of expectancy. It’s hard to convey what he means so he’ll just explain through real-life experiences.

Keiji was in a chat with his friends from high school (yes they still talked, no Akaashi did not enjoy it, no Akaashi wouldn’t trade it for the world, yes the only thing keeping him there was the terrifying fear that leaving will snap the very thin thread connecting Akaashi from his youth and his previous support group). In this chat Keiji and Bokuto both played off each other constantly, just the norm after years of being together— it was expected and they always delivered. So when suddenly, out of the blue, Keiji stops replying to, referencing,  _ talking about in any capacity _ , and overall just existing separately from one Bokuto Koutarou— Keiji  _ expected _ some comments.

“ _ No Bokuto today?” _

_ “Very quiet aren’t you Akaashi?” _

_ “Where’s Bokuto? You always know don’t you?” _

But he got nothing. Not a word. No questions or offhand comments. Nothing.  _ Nothing. _

About 2 weeks into hearing no comments from the chat he makes a ‘Ah yeah the single life is the worst’ in response to something someone said. No one said a thing. 

Why didn’t they say anything? 

Keiji  _ wanted  _ them to (Akaashi didn’t want them to) just notice something. Maybe even just to laugh at him. They didn’t though. Every message was just another drop in the bucket and he was beginning to overflow. 

It sucks.

He likes to think people care about him but maybe not. Doesn’t feel much like it. 

That’s probably what’s upsetting him more than anything else- as if a simple breakup could hurt him like this- it makes more sense for the lack of reassurances to be the main reason he pains. Yeah, that did sound better. 

»

“You seem lonely Akaashi.”

Understatement of the fucking year but, okay. 

“What makes you say that Nishinoya-san?”

“Well, for one, stop calling me Nishinoya. It’s weird and you sound like my teachers in high school.”

“Okay. Sure. Continue.”

“Say it."

“N- … Noya-san please continue.”

Nishin- Noya-san continues. Keiji cracks another egg into the blender. So far he has about 10 eggs in the mixing bowl.

“Great! As I was saying, you seem lonely because you’re always alone and never talking to anyone or doing anything!”

“That’s nothing new for me Nishi-”

Ni-, Noya-san takes a particularly loud sip of his coffee (Keiji didn’t know if it was actually coffee. It could’ve been anything. He was too busy being asleep to know what the fuck Noya-san was up to at 4 am. Maybe it was saltwater). He’s drinking out of the new mug he bought, it looks like Winnie the Pooh. 

“Noya-San.” 

“Well, I don’t know you well, but I know what the unwanted,  _ sad _ loneliness looks like.”

Keiji turns away from Noya-san. He then cracks 5 more eggs into the bowl. 

“Why are you making so many eggs?” Noya-san asks as he licks the side of the mug, his tongue is on Pooh’s eye and Keiji thinks that it has to be unsanitary to do that (Noya-san didn’t wash the cup before using it. Just poured his whatever and sipped away). 

“What do you-”

Keiji looked down at the bowl. This wasn’t anything that special, it was the amount he usually made for breakfast on the rare occasions when both he and- 

…well. This is a  _ special type _ of hell, isn't it? 

“You seem like the type who’s always hungry, Noya-san.”

“Wow! How did you know Akaashi? You’re so smart!”

Yes, he was. He was very smart! Just getting up and instinctively making breakfast for the both of them, a perfect breakfast that they could both enjoy because of course, this portion size was perfect for someone like Nishinoya— Noy- whatever, for anyone else. It wasn’t exclusive to any singular person. 

He was very smart like that.

Keiji was very smart like that. 

He turned the mixer on and listened to the mechanical hum of the automated whisk.

_ Wrroooom _

_ Wrummm _

_ Wrooom _

Akaashi was going to be sick. 

»

They’re shopping together because it’s much easier to shop with the guy bumming it in your house than it is to just assume his tastes and buy stuff hoping you’re right.

Keiji finds it hard to focus because 30 minutes prior he took a nap (a supposed to be 30 minute one that turned into a 3 hour one) and dreamed of his ex. It was admittedly a great dream. Lots of kissing and smiling and hugging and laughing and really Keiji had to thank himself for coming up with the perfect fantasy for what would make him happy right about now. 

“Do we need any medicine in the house?”

Akaashi was still thinking about the dream when Keiji answered Noya-san.

“Not much... bandaids, maybe some rubbing alcohol. Don’t buy any Pepto-Bismol though.”

It was such a nice dream. Akaashi was walking over to his house (maybe it was theirs? It was a house so it wasn’t the apartment they shared that’s for sure) and Akaashi was looking and doing something (probably holding his bag in a super cute way because dream Akaashi is naturally cute and handsome and really just lights up every room) and then he was in Bokuto’s arms. He was there and they smiled at each other and everything got fuzzy and suddenly they were on the couch watching a blank tv screen and the sun was blue and the sky was yellow and Akaashi couldn’t even care because,  _ fuck _ , he was happy again. 

“Okay, is there a story behind that?”

“What?”

“You said it like there was a story behind that.”

“There isn’t.” 

Noya-san looks at him and Keiji looks at the bottles and boxes on the shelf and then he walks forward. No point in adding more. 

»

Akaashi isn’t depressed. 

Keiji is probably depressed though. Maybe. 

He hasn’t taken the time to actually do research on any sort of post-breakup-depression. He probably should. 

It’s assumed that Keiji has had depression, or some form of it, for years. To be fair, the assumption isn’t  _ baseless.  _ Keiji looks like a sad, down on their luck, quiet but suffering person. Always has. He’s told he has a classy charm to him but he doesn’t know how accurate that was or how much it hid everything else. Keiji had (has) some issues sure: he has anxiety and self-deprecating tendencies (comparing himself to others constantly, just assuming he’s the least qualified for everything, terrible imposter syndrome— the works), he tends to lean a bit more on the dark side when it came to his own life, he prioritized others over himself and truthfully he was never as funny as he liked to pretend he was in high school. But all that aside he wasn’t ever… constantly upset, unable to get out of bed, actively losing hope in the day-to-day, and barely holding onto the image of his former self.

He used to be  _ Akashi Keiji _ : editor, setter in high school, boyfriend to Bokuto Koutarou, smart guy with a sharp tongue. 

Now he was just…  _ Keiji _ : failing editor, settling in highschool (peaking in highschool), single, sad asshole,  _ probably _ depressed, an idiot with too much hope for something that’ll never happen, guy with a sharp tongue turned into an assault rifle with friendly fire off at the  _ most unfortunate _ of times. 

But worst of all, truly the scariest part— 

(Far scarier than any morning spent staring at the ceiling for hours listening to music but hearing nothing, than losing all his energy and shuffling around the house every few days to piss and maybe eat; scarier than getting no enjoyment out of anything anymore, scarier than hating the things he truly used to love— worse than everything else,)

Keiji, for the first time in his life, truly thought he might hate himself. 

»

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed and if you did please leave a comment ;) 
> 
> (every fic I post will just get a longer and longer name. eventually, the title will just BE the story. LOOKING FORWARD TO IT)
> 
> you guys know the deal, comment your thoughts, praise me insistently, go on twitter and yell at me to be productive. It really means a lot when you do!
> 
> //Twt//@Burnttoastwbttr


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